Billiards
by Quinncidence
Summary: Sam just wants to know how Dean manages to make so much damn money playing pool. Rating is subject to change. Contains wincest. R/R.


Sam sat at the bar watching Dean hustle pool from across the room. He felt like a totally stalker, but he was just trying to learn how he did it. He wanted to know how Dean won almost every night and got them the money they needed to avoid sleeping in the impala. It was amazing. All Sam did was research and look pretty.

Maybe the word that would better suit what Sam was doing now would be admiring. He was _admiring_ Dean and all of the money he was collecting just by hitting a ball with a stick. Even after years of watching his brother, all he had learned was that you have to chalk up the tip of cue and you _never _sink the white ball. What he knew more about were the faces Dean made when he was telling a joke to his opponent, or when he was being sarcastic, or when he accidentally hit a wrong ball and he had to give up a few bucks. It was never more than a twenty, maybe, and he never lost more than forty dollars a night.

Right now, as far as Sam could tell, Dean had racked up enough for a week without having to play another game of pool. The glare from the burly bald guy that Dean was getting was enough to make Sam laugh out loud and earn some curious looks from onlookers.

Everything was quiet as the same guy circled around the pool table, appearing to try and find the perfect shot. Dean just stood back, smirking as he watched the money assuring himself that no one was going to take a single bill. The older man bent down over the pool table and aligned his cue to where he wanted it. From the silence of the room, Sam had assumed that Dean was winning and the move this guy made would determine who got that money. Honestly, Sam wasn't too worried because he knew Dean would pull through.

The guy pulled back his cue and struck the off-white cue ball with force. It went past the purple ball, which he was obviously aiming for, and hit the wall of the table. It then bounced off of there and hit a dark green solid ball into one of the holes. Sam heard a sharp intake of breath as Dean looked up to the man.

"Thanks."

Dean smirked as he walked back closer to the pool table again and knelt over it. Sam caught several women look at his ass and Sam had to choke back some sort of stomach-churning sensation in his stomach. He looked back at Dean leant over with his cue in hand. He hit the cue ball, in turn hitting the black solid one into the center hole. Everyone got even quieter before erupting into shouts of laughter and congratulations. Sam knew Dean had won, and the guy he had beaten looked pissed as Dean picked up his money.

"Like I said…thanks," Dean smiled his smart-ass 'I'm better than you' smile and wave Sam over and out the door. Sam smiled in amazement and said:

"How do you do that, Dean?" Sam's eyes shone with admiration, and it made Dean feel fuzzy, and as you all know, Dean Winchester does not feel fuzzy. The only things that make him fuzzy inside are Sam's dimples, pie, and when he's being praised. Tying Sam's dimples and being praised all into one is just making him want to burst. Dean glanced over at Sam and answered.

"It takes long years of practice and skill, Sammy. Two things you don't have," Dean looked back over as they got to his car, opening the door and getting in. Sam smirked as he got in.

"Yeah, well I think I want to leave all of the manipulating and lying to you," Sam showed Dean his cute dimples again. Dean shrugged in a breath with a smile on his face and turned on some music. Most of the rest of the ride was silent except for the music. Drawing in a quick breath, Sam spoke again.

"Hey Dean, do you think you could teach me?"

"What, you mean pool? You want to learn to play?"

"Yeah, I mean everything is on you, and I just thought it'd be nice to have some help once in a while," Dean looked over at Sam with raised eyebrows.

"You want to help me hustle pool," Dean stated blankly as he turned back to the road. He saw Sam nod out of the corner of his eye.

"Okay, back at the motel," Dean smiled slightly and sped up as they continued forward. Dean smiled slightly and sped up slightly. Sam's stomach twisted into knots.***

It just so happened that the motel they were at had its own game room, complete with a small billiard table. The boys had exchanged some words before getting back to the motel and Sam convinced Dean to go in after they had locked it because he didn't want to be embarrassed, after promising to buy him some beer the next time they went out, of course.

Dean stood watch as Sam picked the lock to the building, which with Sam's experience didn't take that long, and they were inside in no time. Dean immediately walked over to the pool cues, sizing them all up. Sam wasn't sure how Dean knew which ones to get, but he seemed to pick out two particular ones. He walked back over and handed the longest on to Sam.

"The first thing you need to know is how to pick a cue. Since you're sasquatch I suggest you get the longest one they have," Dean winked. Sam rolled his eyes and tried to push down the awkward and unsettling feeling it gave him.

Dean walked over to the pool table and rolled the balls around in the wooden triangle that was already on the table. Sam was sure the game was a lot simpler than he made it out to be, but he wanted to be as good as Dean, and Dean knew a few tricks.

"Okay little brother, the most important thing is that I will always be better than you at everything," Dean paused and looked at the frustrated look he had caused to form on his brothers face. He laughed a bit and continued, "but the second is how to stand and hold the cue."

Sam stepped back and watched as Dean bent over the table. His eyes traveled down Dean's back and stopped at his ass, mouth gaping only momentarily before snapping himself back to reality. Dean lined up a shot but snapped back up, saying something about 'forgetting to chalk the cue'. Sam wouldn't know for sure; he was too distracted by the moonlight hitting Dean's eyes. He really needed to pay more attention. Sam tried to. He really did, but Dean was busy being attractive and Sam could barely hold himself together long enough for Dean to teach him something.

Dean broke and Sam watched as all of balls scurried off into their own areas, some falling into the holes. Dean smirked and called Sam over for his try. "It isn't that hard, Sammy."

Sam walked over and aligned his cue with the white ball. Dean walked up beside him and placed his hand on the small of Sam's back; obviously a brotherly gesture, but to Sam it was much more. It made his heart speed up and his legs go weak. He didn't like this feeling, but he welcomed it. Sam tried to keep his composure and shoot, but his palms were too sweaty and he missed completely. Dean erupted into laughter, holding his sides from the pain. Sam hit him on the head to shut him up.

"Dude, you suck ass at pool! Don't quit your day job." Sam had nothing to say. He was sure he would have done better had Dean kept his distance and _not_ touched Sam, making his entire body do a school-girl type thing that he despised. He just kept his mouth shut and tried to hide the blush that was attempting to form on his cheeks.

Dean stopped laughing and noticed Sam's facial expression; annoyed.

"Why do you have to be so upfront about everything, Dean?" Sam pursed his lips as Dean stayed silent.

"It's late, Sammy. What do you say we just call it a night?" Dean asked patting Sam on the back. His hand lingered for a moment, sliding down his back. Sam felt a shiver rise through his body, thankful when Dean removed his hand.

"Yeah, that's a good idea." He was already halfway to the door. He wanted to get back into the room and shower before they had any chance to talk about _anything_, and Sam had more time to think about Dean and how amazing he was.


End file.
